


Love songs are the sighs that leave your lips when we kiss

by un_petit_peu_de_moi



Series: Day by day [9]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, some lame jokes and also lots of love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:39:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3932050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/un_petit_peu_de_moi/pseuds/un_petit_peu_de_moi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neymar talked a lot, and he talked often. Neymar was as loud in bed as he was everywhere else, and Leo knew not to pay attention to his incoherent litanies when they were both sweaty and panting. But Neymar said <em> I love you </em>, and try as he might, Leo couldn't not pay attention to that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love songs are the sighs that leave your lips when we kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I didn't take too much time for this one, did I? Well, last one wasn't sex and it wasn't completely fluffy either, but as promise, here is the cheesiest of them all.
> 
> Oh and also, if you hadn't guessed from the summary, this is Leo's pov. So enjoy?

Neymar wasn't a quiet person. He talked, often, and he said a lot of things. Surprisingly, sex wasn't an exception.

 

He sometimes joked, at Leo's expense or about something else. He sung Leo's name, and he moaned loudly with barely any shame. He blabbered too, mostly in Portuguese, things Leo didn't understand and he wasn't sure he wanted to understand. Leo generally got the gist of it – Neymar was feeling good and saying whatever he felt like saying.

 

Leo had been around enough Brazilian players to understand some basic words – insults, mostly. Neymar swore a lot, when he was too far gone, gripping Leo's hair or scratching his back. He swore a lot, and sometimes at Leo, but Leo knew not to take it seriously. Neymar had called him _puta_ one too many times before whimpering of pleasure that Leo understood there were no real heat behind the word.

 

All in all, Leo knew better than to take anything Neymar said seriously, even more so when all of his blood had run south.

 

Yet this day, a hand wrapped around Neymar's dick as he was reaching his orgasm, in between a gasp and an insult, Neymar had said _'Eu te amo'._

 

 

–

 

 

The TV was on in the background, and Thiago was dozing off on his chest. He was drooling a bit on Leo's shirt, but as usual Leo's only thought was that it was adorable.

 

It was already 3 pm, and Leo had been trying to get into his ritual nap for one hour now. Yet all he had managed to do was stare at the ceiling for too long, and be passively annoyed by the TV's noise without being bothered enough to get up and turn it off. Thiago was a reassuring weight on his chest, and he wouldn't have wanted to wake him up anyway.

 

Neymar had said he loved him and Leo didn't know what to make of that.

 

He hadn't seemed to notice. He had uttered it once, and before Leo had the time to process it, Neymar had come and taken Leo along with him. Afterward, panting heavily, Neymar had joked about one thing or another, a grin on his face. It had been one of these things, one of these moments, where Neymar whimpered words during sex without realizing it. Neymar had said _I love you_ like he would have said _shit_ or _deeper_.

 

There were no reasons for Leo to give it any more thoughts, and yet he kept going back to it, Neymar breathing words into his ear, his ribcage trembling and fragile under his hands.

 

“Leo?” A feminine voice shook him out of his thoughts, and Leo turned his head to see Antonella, standing at the feet of the couch and watching him curiously. “Are you listening?”

 

Leo nodded, focusing his attention on her.

 

She smiled and lifted his feet, sitting down on the couch and letting him plop his feet into her laps. She held his ankles reassuringly and sounded mocking when she addressed him again.

 

“Do you need love advice?”

 

Leo started, and she smiled a bit wider.

 

“I'm not stupid. Didn't you have plans with Neymar today? You have been canceling all of them for a week.”

 

Leo huffed. _Of course_. He shrugged, looking back up at the ceiling. Antonella squeezed his foot, quietly encouraging him to talk.

 

“Neymar said he loved me,” he muttered.

 

Antonella didn't answer and he turned his head to look at her. She was looking at him mirthfully.

 

“And that took you by surprise?”

 

She sounded mocking, but Leo chose to ignore it and answered truthfully, “The...moment he said it, it's confusing.”

 

“Confusing,” Antonella repeated, testing the words on her tongue. “Ah, the _moment,_ ” and from the look in her eyes, she understood what he meant. “But is it really surprising, that it would happen at this _moment_?”

 

The way she kept indulging him by using the word ' _moment_ _'_ made Leo feel like a kid.

 

“It's not that. But he said it in Portuguese, and he--”

 

Antonella laughed, bringing a hand to his mouth to muffle her laughter.

 

“Of course, _Te amo_ , _Eu te amo_ – your confusion is _very_ understandable.”

 

Leo glared for a second and ended up huffing, a smile on his lips.

 

“What I mean is that during these _moments_ , he always says a lot of things that he doesn't really mean and that he doesn't realize he's saying.”

 

Leo felt his neck flush, because it was much more information about his sexual life than he was willing to give. Yet, Antonella was his most valuable friend, and he didn't appear to be resolving this matter by himself.

 

Antonella didn't answer immediately, her fingers tapping on his ankle absentmindedly. Finally, she spoke, pronouncing each words carefully.

 

“So are you confused about whether he truly meant it, or are you confused about whether you feel the same?”

 

Leo kept quiet. He was confused about all of that and a bit more.

 

Antonella thought about it for a moment more. Leo should have felt bad about how much he was relying on her to unravel his mind's trouble, yet when she started talking again, slow and deliberate sentences, he couldn't find it in himself to care.

 

“If the issue lies in whether he really meant it – he might not have meant to _say_ it, but do you truly think it's something that comes out when you don't _mean_ it?” She studied him for a second, “I think you're the person who'd know the best whether Neymar truly loves you or not.”

 

He thought about it for a second. A second only, before Neymar's eyes flashed in his mind, clear from secrets and devoted. Neymar's hands trembling against his skin or Neymar holding him too tightly, as though he was afraid he'd leave. Neymar trying too hard, and words that may not be _I love yous_ but that might as well be.

 

If he thought about it, _really_ thought about it, the question wasn't whether Neymar loved him, but rather why he hadn't said it sooner.

 

He nodded curtly, and this seemed to be something obvious to everyone because Antonella didn't ask what he was nodding for. Instead, she resumed her reasoning.

 

“Then the question is: how do _you_ feel about Neymar?” Antonella squeezed his ankles and her voice barely above a whisper she said, “But I would have thought you'd know the answer to that question already.”

 

Leo closed his eyes, rubbing circles on Thiago's back when Thiago wriggled a bit on his chest. He let out a deep sigh, and murmured, “Yes.”

 

He couldn't pinpoint out _when_ it happened but he knew for sure it happened. He had realized he had a thing for Neymar back in the World Cup, when Neymar had called to congratulate him on winning against the Netherlands. Leo hadn't called after Neymar's injury. He had sent a message, a few motivational, empty words. Leo didn't like others to meddle with his problems, and he told himself others must be the same. Neymar though, Neymar probably wasn't.

 

Neymar had called to congratulate him, and it had been inevitable that Leo would ask, _'how do you feel?'_. Neymar only had had reassuring words, he had sounded strong and motivated, but just as Leo was about to end the call, he'd heard sobs and Neymar's voice unable to say anything past _'I_ _just wanted_ _\---'_.

 

Leo hadn't called after Brazil's defeat against Germany, but Neymar called following Argentina's loss. Leo didn't answer, ignored the phone-call like he had ignored all others, but he had stared at the name on his screen, a bright _Neymar_ and a picture, taken by Neymar himself, of teeth, tongue, and lively mischievous eyes.

 

He'd stared at the picture until his screen went black, and it hadn't done anything for his aching heart, for his disappointment, for the sense of loss and failure. It hadn't made it any easier to face the journalists, his teammates, his people. It hadn't made it any easier, but Neymar's happiness was invasive and contagious, and sometimes – sometimes Leo wanted to let it overtake him.

 

That hadn't been love then, that hadn't been anything more than a crush, but it had been enough for him to tell Antonella.

 

Antonella had taken everything in strides, with a smile on her face. Maybe it shouldn't have been that surprising, because they had both realized they didn't love each other like lovers did – not anymore, maybe not ever.

 

The season had started again, and Leo still spent too much time staring at his screen before answering Neymar's calls. After he came back home one night, edgy and troubled after having kissed Neymar in a moment of weakness, Antonella had decided to help him. She had given a bag to him, and when Leo opened it in the secrecy of his room, it was full of movies and books that Leo still remembered with mortification.

 

Leo hadn't looked at Antonella for a few days after that, but he'd went through everything.

 

It had started as a crush. A _crush_ , like a teenager. A crush – that was neither a great commitment, nor too much involvement. But several months later, and if Leo called it a _crush_ he would be deep in denial.

 

“Then,” Antonella's voice rung again, and Leo focused back on her, “if you're sure about your own feelings, what troubles you?”

 

She looked him in the eyes, searching answers, and Leo stared back, hoping she might find them without him. The moment this thought crossed his mind, he felt childish, and he turned his eyes back to the ceiling.

 

He answered in a hushed tone, “If we're both feeling the same, where do we go from there?”

 

“Are you afraid of commitment?” Her voice then took a lighter tone, “Is that why we never married?”

 

Leo snorted and smiled at her, “You know it's not.”

 

She laughed and nodded, then resumed talking calmly, “Are you afraid Neymar will ask for more?”

 

“No,” he answered quickly, without thinking twice and that seemed to surprise Antonella. He elaborated, “I asked one day, if he expected more from our relationship. Like, living together and that sort of things.” Antonella raised her eyebrows doubtfully and Leo amended, “I _somehow_ asked. I was a bit drunk.” She snorted. “But he said--- He said he was too young to do boring couple things like 'living together', and that he was too handsome to get wrinkles so soon.”

 

Antonella laughed, throwing her head back. “He must have been quite drunk!”

 

“No,” Leo smiled, “not really.”

 

Neymar had exaggerated his answer the way he exaggerated everything, sober or less so. Regardless of their relationship, Neymar still met with his friends often, sung and danced and played around. Leo didn't doubt the fact that Neymar didn't want that sort of commitment – the house, the dog, the children. Leo already had that kind of family, and Neymar's own need for freedom fit perfectly into everything.

 

Antonella's giggle died off, and she nudged his feet to catch his attention, “If you're not afraid of that, then what is it?” She leaned towards him, as though sharing a secret, “All that's left for you to be scared of is emotional commitment.”

 

Leo averted his eyes and nodded slowly.

 

“The thing with emotional commitment”, she said in a cheerful voice, “is that you don't have to acknowledge their existence for them to be true.”

 

Leo stared at the ceiling stubbornly.

 

Antonella almost sung her next words, “It's a bit too late to ask yourself questions, don't you think?”

 

Antonella was smiling widely, and Leo felt his own lips twitch, mirroring Antonella's amusement and he snorted.

 

Yes. _Of course_ it was too late.

 

 

–

 

 

Another day, another couch. He was at Neymar's place, dozing off in his living room while Neymar took a shower. Neymar had asked him to come over, looking hesitant, as though he was afraid Leo would refuse yet another time.

 

The TV was turned off and there were no noise in the house. He was curled on the couch, facing the back of it so as to block the light as much as possible. It was comfortable enough that he felt himself doze off content to let himself catch a nap wherever he needed it.

 

He was gifted with the ability to fall asleep quite fast, thus he didn't know how much time had passed when he felt something against his back, and long limbs trying to sneak under his body.

 

Leo didn't move, his breathing even, and let Neymar squirm behind him. Neymar seemed to be trying to flush himself against his back and slip an arm under Leo's body so as to cuddle against him.

 

Leo let Neymar wriggle around, obviously trying and failing to be quiet as he found himself unable to get his limbs under Leo without waking him up. Finally, Leo snorted and turned around. He was met with Neymar's sheepish smile and an apology in his eyes.

 

Neymar was pretty unapologetic about the way he used the moment to finally sneak an arm under Leo, throwing a leg over his hips while he was at it.

 

“Sorry,” Neymar whispered, trying to keep his voice low – not to clash with the atmosphere, Leo presumed. “I didn't mean to wake you up, but at least I smell good.”

 

Saying that, he stuck his hand against Leo's nose. Leo snatched Neymar's hand and pushed it down, holding it within his own to keep it from moving. Neymar seemed content to let his hand be captured.

 

“Hm,” Leo's voice felt slurred because of his recent slumber, but he was close enough to Neymar that he was sure he'd be heard regardless, “I wanted to talk to you actually.”

 

Neymar peered up at him curiously, “About?” He seemed to be struck with a sudden thought and asked quickly, “Does that have anything to do with the fact you didn't want to see me for the past two weeks?”

 

“Yes,” Neymar frowned and Leo saw a subtle panic rise in them, “No, not like that.” He processed Neymar's words and tried to correct him quickly, “I didn't _not_ want to see you, I--”

 

Leo realized how it must have been. Canceling all plans, refusing to make new ones. Of course Neymar would worry. Leo should have thought about it.

 

“Sorry,” he squeezed Neymar's hand, “I didn't mean to worry you.”

 

Neymar squinted, not convinced but probably trusting Leo's words for what they were. Leo started rubbing circles on Neymar's hand and Neymar relaxed significantly.

 

“Then what is it?”, he asked.

 

Leo blinked a few times. He didn't know how to broach the subject, but he had decided that for once, he would be the one to initiate a talk. That only seemed fair, and if Neymar hadn't brought the topic up already, maybe he never would.

 

“Last time we had sex,” Leo started and Neymar muttered quietly _'so long ago'_ , “Last time we had sex you said something, during it.”

 

Neymar frowned, visibly trying to remember. His eyes widened suddenly, and Leo wondered if he had been aware of his words after all.

 

“Did I insult Argentina at some point? I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to--”

 

“Insult Argentina?” Leo cut him off, frowning. “Why would you---?”

 

“I--”, Neymar looked at him confusedly, “I just had the impression that I screamed something like, _'fuck you, fuck your mother, fuck Argentina'_. I mean, I thought it _really strongly_ in my head, and I thought maybe I said that out loud…?”

 

“No you didn't---”, Leo burst out laughing as he realized what Neymar had just said, “Why would you think this in the first place?”

 

Neymar grinned, “You were taking too long, as usual.”

 

Leo shook his head, a slow smile playing on his lips, “No, no that doesn't have anything to do with that.”

 

“Then what?” Neymar grew impatient, poking him in the ribs with his free hand.

 

“Last time we had sex, before you came,” Neymar was looking at him expectantly, and Leo dropped the rest of his sentence in one breath, “You said you loved me.”

 

Neymar didn't do anything for a few seconds, still waiting expectantly. Then his expression morphed, and a flush crept slowly on his neck. Neymar tried to play it off and immediately his eyes left Leo's face, focusing past him.

 

“Did I?”, his voice was high-pitched and breathless, “I don't remember.” There was a split-second where Neymar licked his lips, and then he took a deep breath in – Leo expected it when Neymar started ranting. “I'm too young to have memory loss, don't you think? It might have been a figment of your imagination. Either that or clearly, I'm becoming old, and soon my balls will be as wrinkly as yours. Mind, I do love your balls as they are, no worry there, but wrinkles wouldn't fit mine--”

 

Leo meant to stop Neymar, but he couldn't help laughing, covering Neymar's mouth with his hand. Neymar stopped immediately, looking at him wide-eyed. Leo could feel his breathing, erratic against his hand. Neymar's hand, held in his own, was sweaty.

 

“You're changing the subject.” He still took time to amend Neymar's statement, “and my balls aren't wrinkly.”

 

Neymar didn't react, breathing heavily under his hand, chest heaving and Leo could see the nervousness seeping out of him.

 

Leo stared into Neymar's eyes, clear and open, and he felt guilty realizing Neymar had barely calmed down, looking anxious and tense. Neymar was looking at him as though he were at his mercy. Neymar was actually in a constant state of acting as though he were at Leo's mercy, trusting and overdependent, and Leo had yet to determine how he felt about it.

 

Leo withdrew his hand, letting it linger on Neymar's mouth, tracing the soft lips and letting his fingers sink in a bit, butting against Neymar's teeth.

 

Leo's voice was clear and unwavering, but it felt hoarse as it left his throat, “I love you too.” His eyes didn't stray away from Neymar's.

 

Neymar didn't move for several seconds, still and shell-shocked. He blinked quickly and when he finally spoke, his voice was small and broken.

 

“I love you so fucking much.”

 

Neymar didn't break eye-contact either, and Leo hadn't had any doubts that Neymar loved him. But hearing it from Neymar's mouth, with the certainty that he was meant to hear it, felt a lot like reassurance.

 

Before Leo had the time to blink, Neymar lurched forward. He flushed his body against Leo's, and crashed their lips together, teeth knocking. Leo couldn't move his head back, cornered against the couch, and Neymar wrapped both his arms and legs around Leo's body to lock him into his hold.

 

Neymar felt restless against him, and Leo chuckled into Neymar's mouth. Leo tried to kiss Neymar properly, but Neymar didn't wait. He started humping against Leo, rubbing his crotch against his pelvis. His hands were roaming around, searching for a way to slip under Leo's shirt.

 

Neymar finally managed to sneak a hand in and Leo felt short nails scratching his back. Leo groaned into Neymar's mouth, putting a hand on Neymar's jaw to hold his head back.

 

“I should have known you'll want to have sex.”

 

Neymar fought against his hand, trying to reach Leo's mouth again.

 

“I don't want to have _sex_ , I want you to fuck me.” Neymar dug his fingernails into Leo's flesh, looking frustrated when Leo didn't let go of his jaw. “Fuck me hard, wreck me, take me. Do me, do something.” He produced a pitiful sound in the back of his throat, “Let me kiss you.”

 

Leo didn't free Neymar's jaw, but he moved his head closer. He kept Neymar's head from moving, and kissed him properly, pressing their lips together and licking his way into Neymar's mouth. Neymar relaxed under the kiss. Neymar tightened his hold on him but he stopped trying to press him against the couch, content to let Leo kiss him.

 

Neymar's lips were plump and full, and Leo couldn't resist sucking on it a few times. Neymar didn't protest and he flattened a hand against the one Leo had on his jaw. He moved Leo's hand slowly, until Leo's fingers were against his lips and Neymar started licking them.

 

Neymar closed his eyes as he sucked Leo's fingers in, and Leo could do nothing but watch. He watched Neymar's lips wrapped around his fingers and he could feel Neymar's tongue, curling around them. The sensationstraveled south, filling him with arousal and desire.

 

Leo moved his fingers inside Neymar's mouth, in and out, and he felt his body rumble as he watched. His cock was stiffening inside his shorts, and he couldn't help imagining it between Neymar's lips instead.

 

Neymar must have deemed his fingers to be appropriately coated with saliva, because he took them out of his mouth. As hard as Leo's dick was getting, Leo wouldn't have minded watching Neymar suck on his fingers for a while longer. Neymar guided his fingers to his ass, slipping them under his shorts and underwear and insistently pressing Leo's hand against his asshole.

 

Leo let his fingers trail against the crack, and Neymar eagerly kissed Leo again, resuming humping against him. Leo felt around the small opening, pushing against the rim. Neymar pressed Leo's hand down, trying to guide his fingers inside.

 

Leo didn't like being in a hurry, he liked taking his time and doing things at his own pace. He also liked watching Neymar when he got desperate, liked the noise Neymar made if Leo took too long. He wasn't a horny person, but once he started anything with Neymar, he had the urge to never stop, and he tended to drag things out.

 

Yet today, Neymar's own arousal found an echo within him. This wasn't a regular day, this wasn't just another hook-up. Every touches and every kisses were heavy and meaningful, and he found himself to be as eager as Neymar, for once.

 

He relented, slowly inserting a finger inside. Neymar gasped loudly into his mouth. Leo had barely started moving it, and Neymar was already acting as though it wasn't enough, pressing Leo's hand into his ass and grinding heavily against him.

 

It didn't take much time before Leo was thrusting a second finger in.

 

Neymar moaned, clenching around him and threading fingers into Leo's hair. Leo knew what to do, how to move to have Neymar moaning and moving back on his fingers in no time. Leo made sure to aim for Neymar's prostate every single time, until Neymar whispered against his lips _'hurry up'_.

 

Leo complied. He inserted a third finger, thrusting it at once and he held Neymar's waist, feeling it arch back.

 

Neymar tugged on Leo's hair, moaning desperately into his mouth as he kept telling Leo to _hurry up_. Neymar finally stopped holding onto Leo's hand and pressed his palm against Leo's crotch instead. He rubbed it, cupping his dick through the fabric. Leo breath hitched, and the hair at the base of his neck was starting to feel damp. Neymar squeezed his cock, and Leo got the message. He took his hand out of Neymar's short, earning a soft whimper from Neymar.

 

Neymar set to take Leo's shirt and pants off, Leo wriggling to help him until he was completely naked on the couch. His hands went for Neymar's own clothes, quickly getting rid of all of them until they were both naked, their hard dicks rubbing as they kissed.

 

Neymar slid his hand down, tracing his abs, then flattening his palms against them. Before Neymar could get a hand down around his cock, Leo flipped them over, getting Neymar under him. He started going down on Neymar's neck, nibbling and sucking the flesh until it left a mark.

 

A mark to look at later and think about how Neymar, for all intents and purposes, was _his_.

 

He heard Neymar's hand fumbling around. He looked up to see Neymar desperately trying to reach for his shorts, carelessly thrown on the floor. Leo snorted – of course, Neymar would have lube stacked in his own clothes. Leo let Neymar wriggle under him for a bit before taking pity on him and searching for the bottle himself.

 

He found it quickly enough and didn't lose any time coating his dick with it. Neymar was looking dazedly at his cock. He didn't stop staring even when Leo set the bottle on the floor and sat back on the couch. Leo huffed and he seized Neymar's thighs, spreading them open.

 

There was nothing rational about the surge of desire he felt every time he parted Neymar's legs, yet the lust never failed to be, rumbling in his belly and edging him on. Leo tugged Neymar down, putting Neymar's legs over his arms and letting Neymar wrap them around his torso.

 

Neymar grabbed his head and pulled it down, their foreheads bumping a bit too harshly and Neymar planted a wet kiss on his lips. Leo guided his dick until it was at Neymar's entrance, hard against the rim, and he pushed it in slowly. Neymar's body stiffened with each new inches, gasping into his mouth.

 

Leo slid his whole cock in and stopped once he was fully buried inside Neymar. He ignored the primal urge to _fuck_ to savor the moment instead, the tightness and the heat, and Neymar gasping under him.

 

Leo kissed under Neymar's ear while Neymar's body quickly relaxed under him, adapting to the new shape inside him. He nibbled on Neymar's earlobe, catching a shiny earring between his teeth and tugging. Neymar moaned, titling his head to the side to allow Leo a better access.

 

Neymar was pressing Leo's head down, trying to guide him down his neck. Leo smiled and obeyed the silent demand. He dived into Neymar's neck, sucking and biting on the skin, leaving marks so red they were almost purple. It didn't seem to hurt Neymar – it never did. Neymar seemed as eager to be marked as Leo was to mark him.

 

Neymar bucked up his hips and Leo started moving. He drew out almost fully before thrusting back in as fast as he could, and he did so until Neymar felt loose and relaxed around him. Neymar moaned every time he dived back in – broken or breathy moans, high-pitched or aborted whimpers. Neymar was as loud and talkative in bed as he was in life. And Leo had never been good with words, but he knew how to listen.

 

Neymar was fully relaxed under him, arms tightly wound around his neck. Leo took Neymar's arms and pinned them next to his hips so he could sit up, back straight. Neymar tugged on his arms for a bit before giving up, looking up hotly at Leo.

 

And Leo had never been good with words but he knew how to watch, too.

 

Neymar's caramel skin, marred with black tattoos and bluish hickeys, nipples dark and hard, neck glistening with saliva and sweat, pink full lips parted by the moans he let out. A necklace around his throat, the cross next to his neck. A defined stomach, heaving with the breath Neymar tried to take in. Neymar's skin wasn't perfect – there were acne scars on his cheeks, that Neymar looked at with annoyance in the mirror. Leo liked the feel of them under his fingers, cute flaws that had adorned Neymar's skin for as long as Leo had known him.

 

Leo was anything but handsome. He didn't have anything he could boast off, nothing that could draw people in. He had no charisma and no charm, and he didn't have any issue admitting that if it wasn't for football, people would never have looked twice. But Neymar had all these things – the charisma and the charm. Neymar was gorgeous and he knew it. Yet he looked at Leo with adoration; he looked at Leo with a lust that shouldn't have been meant for him, but that seemed so strong in Neymar's eyes it almost felt like a _need_.

 

Leo moved faster, harder, knowing without searching how to drive in to make Neymar squirm, back arching but arms stiff and tense against the couch, restrained by Leo's hold on his wrists.

 

“Ney,” he panted out, “You're so---”

 

He struggled to find a word that wouldn't feel bland and dull on his tongue. Out of frustration, he tightened his hold on Neymar's wrist, thrusting in abruptly. It took Neymar by surprise, and he yelped, eyes widening and back arching again, tugging against Leo's hands again.

 

Neymar seemed to take Leo's failure with words as an incentive to make it up with his own.

 

“Good”, he practically begged, “It feels so good. You're so good to me.” Neymar seemed to have trouble breathing, shutting his eyes and arching helplessly into his thrusts. “I love you, I love you so, so, so damn much. You're so great, so amazing.” Neymar's words were so shaky they sounded like hiccups, and to Leo's mortification he didn't seem to be stopping. “You're so great to me, so wonderful. I want to give you so much, I swear I'll give you everything.”

 

Neymar barely seemed to be aware of what he was saying, eyes shut and back tense. Leo felt himself flush, fucking Neymar harder and hoping it would be enough to make him stop talking.

 

“I'm not asking for everything.” Leo muttered. _I just want you_ , he thought, but the words didn't make it past his throat.

 

“I don't care, you deserve it. You're worth it. You're worth – everything. Anything. Fuck, God, I love you so much, I never want to stop.” Neymar looked on the verge crying, words slurred and hasty.

 

Leo bent over, intending to kiss Neymar silent. Neymar swiftly turned his head to the side, finally freeing his arms and locking Leo's head against his neck. He kept up his litany, whimpering his love and undying adoration in Leo's ears.

 

Leo hid his face against Neymar's shoulders, wishing Neymar would stop because this was _too much_ , way much more than Leo actually could bear. Neymar didn't have any filter, he either gave nothing or everything, and he abandoned himself to Leo without any doubt and no hesitation, and Leo had to bear the responsibility of Neymar's heart.

 

It was much more than Leo could take, but it was also something he never _ever_ thought he would have. Head buried in the crook of Neymar's neck, he wished Neymar to stop just as much as he drank every words in. Neymar sang his praises unapologetically, and it twisted Leo's stomach and swept his heart away with the unwavering conviction that it was unconditional. That was something he never felt before, that unfathomable certainty that he would always have this unapologetic love.

 

He would always have Neymar.

 

Leo's heart was pounding away, and he tried to match his hips' pace to that of his heart. He gripped Neymar's hips and dived in hard, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room. He made short thrusts and he barely withdrew, thrusting hard and deep, and deeper.

 

Neymar had been rendered incoherent, his litany reduced to _e_ _u te amo_ and _I love you_. His voice was so broken – Neymar sounded as overwhelmed as Leo felt. Leo was sweaty, his grip on Neymar's hips slipping and he bit his moans into Neymar's neck.

 

Leo slid a hand on Neymar's glistening skin until he could wrap it around his cock. He pumped Neymar fast, his precum and sweat helping Leo's hand slid over the shaft. Neymar moaned so loudly it sounded like screams, and his whole body stiffened. He scratched Leo's nape, practically sobbing into Leo's ear as Leo edged him on and took him further apart.

 

Leo's own head was getting lighter as his thrusts were getting heavier, until he finally felt Neymar arching up completely under him. He became unbearably tight around him, and Leo thrust in harder to make up for it, jerking Neymar off and feeling warm drops on his chest. Leo reached his climax forcing his way into Neymar's clenching ass, coming inside him and thrusting harshly until his hips stuttered to a stop.

 

His face was buried in Neymar's neck, and he couldn't tell whether his vision had actually faded out during his orgasm. He panted heavily against Neymar's shoulders, face flushed with the exhaustion and the lack of air. He closed his eyes briefly, enjoying the feeling of being buried inside Neymar for a few seconds more before he withdrew, a soft _uh_ leaving Neymar's lips.

 

There probably was less air than he needed in the crook of Neymar's neck, but Leo stayed there, placing kisses on Neymar's throat. Neymar was slowly regaining his breathing.

 

They hadn't moved or talked for some minutes, when unexpectedly, Neymar's breath hiccuped once, then twice, and Neymar's giggle rang in the room.

 

Leo lifted his head and moved until he could properly look down at Neymar. Neymar was laughing, eyes scrunched shut and pearly white teeth showing. His hair was stuck to his head and his skin was glistening, yet he was laughing as carelessly as if they were sharing a joke over a drink.

 

He titled his head to question Neymar's laughter, “Why are you laughing?”

 

“You said you loved me, so I'm wondering,” Neymar had a wide cheeky grin on his face that augured no good, “are you going to tattoo my face on your back?”

 

Leo started, surprised, and Neymar cackled.

 

“Or my hands, or anything really.” He laughed some more and sobered enough to say, “I'm open to any part of my body, except for my anus.”

 

Neymar had a split-second of silence before he laughed louder, and Leo was pretty sure he was thinking about something that had to do with the words ' _anus_ ' and ' _open_ '. Leo scrunched up his nose in disgust at the thought, but he couldn't help the fond smile spreading on his face as Neymar kept laughing under him.

 

“You're an idiot.”, he said, affectionately. He slapped Neymar's side playfully and Neymar gave back the same.

 

“So you won't? I'm very put out.”

 

Leo leaned down, kissing Neymar's grin, “You're marking me enough as it is”, he whispered, thinking of the scratches and bite marks that Neymar often left on his body.

 

“You're no fun,” Neymar mock-whimpered, even as a shiver ran over his chest, “my face would fit very nicely next to your mom's.”

 

“Shit,” the swear escaped Leo at the horrific visual, and Neymar burst out laughing again, “You're awful.”

 

“But you love me.” Neymar said. He was trying to be cheeky and confident, but his cheeks were rosy and his eyes were filled with wonder and blissful disbelief.

 

Leo nodded. “Yes,” and he kissed Neymar again.

 

If with Neymar it was a choice between all or nothing, Leo would take everything.

 

**Author's Note:**

> That's the first I write in Leo's pov. I hope you're not too weirded out by it, but this was a meaningful chapter, and I always wanted to tell it from Leo's point of view. My fear was that telling it from inside Leo's head, Leo would appear way too OOC, considering the fanon neymessi dynamic. Yet again, all fictions are works of OOCness, and I thought I should rather compare to the way I wrote him, and whether that was consistent. I hope I managed it? Mostly, I hope you enjoyed it.


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